


Finally

by happywitch416



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 03:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywitch416/pseuds/happywitch416
Summary: One Shot featuring my warrior, Selene Hawke. Everything else may change but Varric and Hawke is always my constant.





	Finally

Daisy leaned against Hawke's legs, smiling cheek leaned on her knee as Hawke's nails gently swept through her hair. They watched Rivaini pantomime a recent fight amongst her crew before she fell across Hawke's lap with a grin and a smacking kiss for Merrill. A guffaw of laughter exploded from Hawke as her arm swung up to deflect Rivaini's swinging boot heels before coming to rest across the woman's thighs, drink still in hand.

 

Varric shook his head. She looked every inch the barbarian queen, with the dark whorls across her cheeks and the two women draped across her, all winter furs and flickering firelight. He tucked the image away, a story begging to be written and set back to finding out what his contacts had to say about Hawke's father. _Who I am fairly certain was one of the Avaar for all her Orlesian upbringing._

 

Laughter and clapping filled the Hanged Man as music began. Varric's foot tapped to the beat but otherwise ignored the merry making around him. The low scuff of soft boots brought his nose out of his reading, pen still flying across the page in notes as he concentrated to finish the thought. "Ma petite, what is so engrossing you that cannot join us?"

 

"You know that doesn't work on me, Hawke. Orlesian is for fops." Her light chuckle at their old joke drew his eyes to her, leaned forward against his table, her chin nestled against her knuckles. Her smile was warm, sunset pink offset the black of her tattoos. Her eyes a midnight sky of the new moon.

 

_Shit._

 

Her grin widened. "You understand Orlesian, Varric. You either join the fops or kill them." He toasted her before taking along draw on his ale. "Come, you can write in your sleep, mon cherie. Dancing is best when you're awake."

 

"I don't dance, Hawke."

 

Her eyes rolled. "Everyone dances. And don't think I didn't notice your boot tapping.â" She gave him a wink. "I'll even spare you a dance with Isabela." She reached for him and his hand had a mind of its own as she pulled him from his chair and out to the floor. She had filled out since he met the gaunt ex mercenary all those years ago. Muscles hid under a deceivingly soft body, her greatsword wasn't for show but most were happy to treat her dimples and hips as markings of a noblewoman. She wasn't the Champion for being sweet and dainty, her war paint as permanent as her scars.

 

Varric cleared his throat. "You really think she'd untangle herself from Daisy that long?" Hawke's laughter bubbled along the pulse of her neck, far more tempting then he had planned when he had chosen that as his spot to look. It was that, both eyes full of tits, or breaking his neck to look up at her the whole time. _I'm a gentleman in public. And this Hawke, by the maker's balls._

"Varric." She sang softly. "Are you in there?" He nodded as she spun them. "Well, usually that riles a comment out of you. And the music is slowing. Wasn't sure if you wanted that kind of dance."

 

His breath caught in his throat as she saw her cheeks pinking. She tossed her head, hair falling across her fair skin, soft black waves interspersed with braids. _Surely she didn't-. "_ I don't mind this kind of dance." She relaxed in his arms. "Selene."

 

A soft laugh left her. "You've never called me that."

 

She stared down at him, smile soft and shy, her bottom lip barely caught by her teeth. "My mistake." Varric surged up on his toes and kissed her. She froze, the longest heartbeat of his life before matching him touch for touch. He smiled when he felt her lips turn up into one of her own, pulled her closer, never close enough.

 

Cheers exploded through the Hanged Man. Isabela had one booted foot on the table, mug raised high. "About time!"

 

Hawke, _Selene,_ burst out in a fit of laughter, her forehead leaned against his. "She may have a point."

 

"I'm not telling her that." Laughter mixed with their kisses well into the night as they tried to make up for lost time.

 


End file.
